


Can't Keep a Good Devil Down

by SomeoneAsGoodAsYou (the_wanlorn)



Series: Whumptober 2019 [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hostage Situation, Human shield, Post-Season/Series 04, Whumptober 2019, no, no i will not, over how he comes back?, will i ever stop waving my hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 14:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20893622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wanlorn/pseuds/SomeoneAsGoodAsYou
Summary: Lucifer volunteers to be traded in a hostage situation. Lucifer does not volunteer to be a human shield, which is too bad for him because that's what's happening.





	Can't Keep a Good Devil Down

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober 2019: day 4: "Human Shield"
> 
> A Short One

They weren't okay.

Some part of Chloe had expected that, once she got over the initial shock, knowing Lucifer was the Devil wouldn't change things. She knew who he was; what he was didn't matter so much. It was a lot to take in, sure, but she managed it and came out the other side no worse for wear. She hadn't expected that Lucifer would be the one to start avoiding her, to be mysteriously busy, to not return her calls.

And she understood. She had hurt him by walking away. She could have handled things better, but she thought she had done well, all things considered. She had apologized, they had talked—and maybe that was more about her curiosity than about being sorry, but could anyone blame her—and everything was supposed to go back to normal.

So when he showed up at the hostage situation at the bank, she was _glad_. Right up until he volunteered for the hostage exchange.

"Can't keep a good Devil down, Detective," he said with a wink when she protested, and she supposed what she was supposed to get out of that was he couldn't be hurt, but she knew it for the lie it was. He could still be hurt when he was around her, unless that had changed somehow since they last talked about it. Did he think she would forget about that?

And so: he went in, the children came running out. They gave him an earpiece before sending him in and all he had to do was sit there and shut up while they tried to talk the guy down. All he had to do was be anyone but himself.

"Well this is all very boring, isn't it?"

Chloe covered her eyes with one hand, squeezing the bridge of her nose between her fingers, and biting back the words she wanted to hiss at the hostage negotiator who thought it had been a good idea to send him in. At least he was trying to shut Lucifer up; unsuccessfully, but it was the thought that counted.

"Come now, why don't we sit down and have a little chat," he said, and Chloe could just picture him, leaning forward, eyes intent on his prey, ready to poke and prod until he found their weak point. Their deepest desire.

The voice of the gunman was muffled and indistinct, but when Lucifer complained, "Is that really necessary?" Chloe's heart leapt to her throat.

She grabbed a radio and hissed into it, "Lucifer, knock it off and let the negotiator do his job."

Of course, he ignored her. She might as well have been talking to a brick wall. A brick wall of recklessness wrapped in an all-too-handsome body.

"It's alright," he said confidently, and she wasn't sure if he was talking to her or the rest of the hostages. "How about you tell me what you're really after, hm? What do you truly desire?"

She shivered at that tone in his voice, one she had never picked up on before. It was something darkly sensual, and if she didn't know the man behind it, she would almost be caught up by it. But Lucifer—her Lucifer, even if she had no real claim to him—was too goofy for her to take that tone seriously. She just... understood why it worked on other people even when he wasn't using his devil mojo.

There was the muffled noise of talking again, and then a long pause. Everyone who had a radio was telling Lucifer to get a list of demands, to tell them the list of demands, to help them do their job.

"I see," Lucifer finally said instead of being helpful. "I'm afraid that's probably not a good id- oh, we're doing this now, are we? Alright then."

There was another long silence, then Lucifer muttered, "That's not good."

Chloe was going to kill him when he came out. They were going to sit down and have a long talk about what was appropriate in a hostage situation like this and then she was going to kill him. She was prepared to run back to her car, to get in and drive away hard and fast if something happened to him and he needed to heal.

She kept telling herself that it would be okay, that Lucifer was indestructible, that even if he got shot she could leave and he would be fine. There wasn't any need to worry about him, just about what danger he was putting the hostages in. He would be fine. But she couldn't shake the bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, and her heart dropped when the door opened and he stepped out, hands raised.

"It appears I'm to go on a little journey," he said, a smile pasted on his face that she could see was faked. "If you could clear a path for Brad and I to get through, it would be much appreciated."

Brad—good to know the gunman's name—held up a detonator, yelling that he'd bring the whole bank down if they didn't let him through. Chloe wasn't paying attention to that, though. Lucifer had sought out her gaze—and she knew she was wide-eyed and panicked even as she told herself to calm down—and smiled softly, the look in his eyes one of deep weariness and resignation.

That was when she caught a glimpse of the gun.

She had expected the gunman to have it pressed against the small of Lucifer's back, maybe. Or between his shoulder blades. Or not pointed at him at all, in the best case scenario. But Brad, it seemed, was going for broke and had the gun pressed against the back of Lucifer's skull, perfectly aimed to blow out his brainstem.

She didn't think he could come back from that, and the look he was giving her—sad and apologetic and something almost like fear—didn't reassure her any. If Brad pulled the trigger, Lucifer would be sent back to Hell, and who knew if he'd escape his own personal loop before she herself died. She could never see him again.

Then he smiled at her, smiled at her like she was the brightest thing in his life, the reason he got up in the mornings, and the reason he slept well at night. Before she could do anything, before she could tell him to stop or not to do whatever he was planning, he mouthed, "I love you," at her and struck.

He lunged for the hand with the detonator, grabbing it before Brad could react. He ripped open the back of the box and pulled something out of it, already turning back to Brad as he dropped whatever he had pulled out along with the detonator itself. But Brad had recovered from his shock and was already pointing the gun at him.

"No!" Chloe screamed as Lucifer barreled into Brad and the sound of a single shot rang out. She saw both bodies fall, and then the SWAT team was storming forward.

She couldn't breathe. If Lucifer had- She couldn't breathe and there were too many people in the way. She couldn't see him and couldn't get to him and she _couldn't breathe_.

_Please_, she prayed, for perhaps the first time in her life. _Please let him be alive._

Then she caught sight of him, walking toward her with a cocky smirk, like he was saying, _Look at me, Detective, aren't I so clever._ The relief in that moment was so strong she felt dizzy with it. As he stopped in front of her, he opened his mouth to say something that was going to be unbearably smug. And she just- She couldn't.

She pulled back and decked him, a sold hit to his cheekbone that laid him out.

"Is this just a game to you?" she spat, and then she turned and walked away.

Dead silence followed her for a moment, and she could feel everyone's eyes on her. Then she rounded the corner and ducked into an alley, sagging against the brick as soon as she was out of sight. She was breathing hard, her eyes pricking with tears. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than half an hour, but her heart was pounding like she'd run a marathon in that time.

"Detective?" Lucifer's voice was more hesitant than she'd ever heard it and a part of her wanted to respond to that, wanted to reach out to him and tell him it, whatever "it" was, was okay.

Instead she pushed herself off the wall, straightening, and said, "What was that?"

He blinked, looking taken aback. "I was saving-"

"_No_," she spat, the vehemence in her voice surprising her. "You were taking needless risks that could have gotten everyone in that bank killed."

"Ah," he said, his shoulders tensing and his voice just as stiff when he said, "I understand."

"I don't think you do," she said, and scrubbed angrily at the tears that were escaping her eyes. "You told me you could be trapped in Hell again, and you could have _died_."

She took a shaky breath and turned to face him. He looked stricken, like he hadn't even considered- "I know things are weird between us but you- You could've-"

She took another shaky breath and then he was in her space, hovering there like he didn't know quite what to do. Like he-

Like he wanted to reach out but didn't know if he was allowed.

She pulled him into a fierce hug, wrapping her arms around him and not caring that she was probably wrinkling his suit. His hands fluttered around her for a moment before settling on her back, and then he was hugging her, too, bent at an odd angle so he could bury his face in her hair.

"I didn't think-" he said, a thin tremble in his voice. "I thought you-"

When she pulled back, he let go of her immediately, his arms dropping, and took a quick step away. She caught his wrist, though, not letting him go far. "You thought what?"

She searched his face, his eyes, for something that would tell her that she wasn't wrong. That he still wanted her outside of a crisis situation and was just being, well, _him_. There was a softness in his eyes that had her hoping, had her heart rising to her throat, had her waiting with bated breath for his next words.

"You know who I am now," he said quietly, looking away. "How could you-"

When he didn't continue, she stepped up to him, one hand going to his cheek to turn his head back to her. "Look at me," she said. "I'm here. I've been here. I'm not going anywhere."

"But I'm-" he protested, but she shushed him before he could continue. It was his turn to be searching her face for something, and she could only hope that he found it.

"I've always known who you are," she said. "What you are doesn't matter to me. I stand by what I said. You're not the Devil. Not to me."

He swallowed, hard enough that she could see it. The adrenaline from earlier was starting to seep out of her, and she wished he would hurry up and say something so she could kiss him.

"I would really like to kiss you right now," he said hoarsely.

She smiled at him, going up on her tiptoes so she could say against his lips, "Then what are you waiting for?"

The first brush of his lips against hers was tentative, almost so soft she missed it. It wasn't what she would have expected from him at all. The second brush was firmer, like he was realizing he could really have this, have her. The third brush had her leaning forward further, her hands coming up cup his cheeks as she press her lips more firmly against his.

"I thought you were going to kiss me," she said, barely pulling back enough to talk, "not just tease."

"Good things come to those who wait," he said and she laughed.

"I don't believe you know a thing about patience."

His voice was far too serious when he said, "I would wait forever for you."

She jerked back, just enough to see the dead serious expression on his face, then leaned back in and pressed her lips against his, hard.

"You can't just say things like that," she murmured. "How am I supposed to top that?"

"Your acceptance tops anything I could ever repay," he said, and what was she supposed to do about that?

The only thing she could do was dive back in to nip at his bottom lip, making him gasp. He returned the favor, and his tongue was slick in her mouth, stroking against hers in a soft dance. She hummed in approval, leaning against him and using his strength to hold her up as her legs grew shaky. He had wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"Get it Decker!" someone yelled as they walked past the mouth of the alley.

She didn't jerk back, but she did gentle the kiss until it was just light presses of lips to lips again. She knew she should feel more embarrassed than she did, but she just couldn't muster the energy. He could have _died_.

"We should go debrief," she said, and he made a broken sound as she pulled away. She just grinned wickedly at him. "And then we should head back to my place."

His eyes brightened at that, a look of pure joy overcoming his face. "Beatrice is with Daniel?"

"For the rest of the week," she confirmed, smirking at the dazed look on his face as he considered all the possibilities. "Ready?"

He followed her out of the alley, and she could almost feel the smile he was directing at her back, something full of joy and tenderness. It was a smile she could get used to seeing on his face, if she wanted. The thought had her heart bubbling with something she almost didn't recognize: happiness. She supposed if it brought her this, she couldn't be _too_ mad at him for the stunt he pulled.

Which didn't mean she wasn't going to sit him down and have a good long talk with him later. But that could wait. For now, she was just going to be happy.

The End


End file.
